Even In Death
by PaleSecrecy
Summary: War is raging. Heroes have fallen at Voldemort's hand. But there is one who can save him, one who loved him before he became the Dark Lord...Minerva McGonagall!
1. A Look Into The Past

It was midnight, and the current Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was pacing in her office, a small stone basin clutched tightly in her hands. Minerva McGonagall had aged considerably within the past year; she was no longer the smiling young girl of her youth, but a sad and hardened old woman. Her black hair, tied back in a severe knot, was streaked with silver, and her hands shook for lack of sleep. Ever since the return of the wizard known as Voldemort, she had been plagued with vivid nightmares – memories of her seventh year.

Holding the Pensieve with trembling fingers, Minerva whispered, "There must be something that Albus and I overlooked. Something that will save us all…."

She set the Pensieve on her desk and gazed into it. There, in the silvery substance that it contained, floated an image of a handsome boy with dark, wavy hair and a very charming smile. His Head Boy Badge gleamed.

Minerva, taking a deep breath, drew her wand and dipped it into the Pensieve. Instantly, the silver liquid-light began to swirl. She closed her eyes.

When she finally opened them, she was no longer standing by her desk in her office, but in the middle of an empty classroom. She was in the process of smoothing out her robes when the silence was broken by two bickering voices.

Turning towards the source of the sound, Minerva watched as the handsome Head Boy and a young girl with long black hair and a Head Girl badge pinned to her robes walked into the room. The girl was gesticulating wildly; the boy merely watched with his arms crossed, looking amused.

"I think Divination is very woolly, if you ask me," the young Minerva scoffed. "Setting store by all sorts of predictions and prophecies. I mean, really, Tom."

The boy called Tom flinched at her casual use of his name, but his expression evened out so quickly that Minerva was left wondering if she had really seen it.

"Minnie," said Tom lightly, addressing the young Minerva. "You know as well as I do that many of the greatest witches and wizards have practiced Divination. Merlin, for instance." He paused. "No, what I think is really useless is Muggle Studies." This last he spat out as though it were a hideous blasphemy.

Minnie seemed appalled. "Oh, but Muggle Studies is fascinating!"

Tom snorted. "Hardly what one would call magic. Besides," he said with a sneer, "Mud – I mean, Muggles, should never even be allowed into Hogwarts."

Minerva had seen enough. As the classroom dissolved around her, she caught one final glimpse of Tom's self-satisfied smirk and her own look of horror before she found herself standing once again beside the Pensieve.

She sank into her chair, utterly defeated. "I had forgotten how much hatred he had, even at seventeen. This is going to be more difficult than I thought."


	2. Plans And Prophecies

Chapter 2

Plans And Prophecies

An hour later, Minerva was still sitting in the same position. She had let her hair down so that it fell loosely about her face and her eyes were bloodshot. Resting on the table was something that looked suspiciously like a bottle of butterbeer.

"I have to figure this out!" she expostulated in a sudden fit of frustration. "The final confrontation is growing nearer and nearer, and with Albus gone…well, of course I want Potter to defeat the Dark Lord, but I refuse to believe that Tom is lost to me forever."

A sudden, terrible thought flashed into her head. "No," denied Minerva, refusing to believe for a second that she would ever even consider what she had just almost considered. "If it ever came down to it, I would protect Potter. Even if I had to give up on Tom, I would protect him. I would protect him the way I never protected his parents."

The truth was that Minerva had had many a chance to aid in the Dark Lord's defeat. But because of her love for the boy he had once been, she had only made half-hearted attempts. Albus had known this, and only he had truly understood.

"We cannot choose with whom we fall in love, Minerva," he had told her shortly before his death. "You love Tom; maybe it is your love that can save him."

Minerva bolted upright.

"Of course! That was what he was trying to explain to me!" she exclaimed, her emerald hat nearly falling off in her excitement. "Potter has faced the Dark Lord on numerous occasions and managed to escape with his life, but he has been unable to destroy him. That is because the boy feels only hatred for him. But hatred cannot destroy hatred; it only fuels it. Love is the key! It sounds cliché, yes, but surely if Tom had known love, he would not have chosen the path that he did.

"Let me see…his mother died and his father abandoned him." Here her nostrils flared, and she continued rather defiantly, "But I loved him, and still do…despite all that he has done. I will always love Tom."

Minerva tucked her hair behind her ears, tapping her long fingers thoughtfully on the desk. "Perhaps my love will be enough. Perhaps I can find a way to save him…before any other innocent people are hurt."

She was mulling this over when a rather loud knock came at the door.

Minerva hastily thrust the bottle of butterbeer under her desk. "Come in."

A tall, thin boy with messy black hair and glasses stumbled into the room. She sighed, exasperated. It did not surprise her that Harry Potter had been wandering the corridors at night again.

Sternly, she peered over her spectacles at him. "Mr. Potter…."

"Er…Professor?" began Harry. "I had the dream again, but it was different this time. Just thought that you should know."

Minerva stopped short. She had been prepared to chastise him for wandering and send him straight back to his rooms, but this could prove important.

"Yes, Potter. Go on."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "He was here," he said. "Voldemort. He was here at Hogwarts. He and I were dueling and I had the upper hand when you – well, you Stunned me." He looked at his professor and saw that she had turned white as a ghost. "You Stunned me and then I woke up. That's all I remember."

Minerva was shaken. It was only a dream, the disturbing tale that Potter had just told her, but his dreams did seem to have a certain element of prophecy to them. Wait – prophecy? The nightmare of an adolescent could not possibly be a prophecy. She mentally slapped herself for even considering it. Foolishness, that was all. Better simply to send the boy to bed and pretend that he had never told her about his dream. Yes, that was the best solution.

"Potter," she said wearily. "Go to bed. Just go."

He did not argue, but looked at her searchingly for a moment before exiting the same way that he had entered.

Minerva slumped over. It had been a long day and an even longer evening, and she just wanted to rest. Taking a vial of Dreamless Sleep from her desk drawer, she downed it in one swig and collapsed into slumber.


	3. The Turning Point

3

The Turning Point

Minerva was falling. Yet, for some reason, she was not afraid. She knew that Tom was there, and that he would catch her. He would catch her just as he always had when they were young. Ah, their seventh year, the year of Minerva and Tom…that had been the best year of her entire life. No one, not even the great He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, could take that from her.

With a start, Minerva realized that her her descent had come to a sudden halt. Glancing around her in dazed surprise, she saw that she was standing in the private rooms of Hogwarts' Head Boy.

That would be Tom, she realized. Because this is fifty years ago.

Looking down at herself, she saw that she was young again – seventeen years old, to be exact. She no longer wore an emerald green cloak and matching hat, but the official school uniform and a badge bearing the legend "Head Girl."

"Minnie," a familiar voice called. "Come and open your presents."

Minerva whirled around and it was then that she saw him. Tom Riddle. He was standing by the Christmas tree with his arms crossed, a sardonic expression on his handsome face. The sight of him after all of this time made her somewhat dizzy, and she clutched the sofa for support.

"Are you quite all right?" Tom asked, smirking but looking concerned nevertheless. He took a step towards Minerva. "You look ill."

For a moment, she just stood there and contemplated all of the terrible things that the young man standing before her would one day grow up to do, but then she could just not hold it in any longer. She crossed the floor so quickly that even the ever composed and collected Tom seemed surprised, and embraced him.

It had been so long since she had last touched him, held him in her arms. Minerva knew that this perfect moment would never last, that she would be forced to leave him when his forays into the Dark Arts became too extreme for even her to ignore, but at that moment she could care less. All that she felt was love.

"Happy Christmas, Tom Riddle."

"And the same to you, Minerva."

Minerva opened her eyes and gasped. It was years later, and she was standing alongside the Order of the Phoenix as they prepared for the final confrontation. The Death Eaters, led by the Dark Lord, were fast approaching Hogwarts. Students had been evacuated, except for the D.A. They had insisted upon assisting the Order and could not be persuaded to leave the castle.

"Aim to Stun," Remus Lupin ordered the students. His expression was very grim. "The Order will deal with Voldemort."

Minerva turned ashen. She would not let them kill him. Not when only moments ago he and she had been sharing a joyful Christmas together.

When she finally spoke, her voice was steady. "No one else do anything. I will take care of the Dark Lord." More softly, "I will save Tom."

Minerva woke with a start. She fumbled for her spectacles, wondering all the while. The Dreamless Sleep potion was supposed to be foolproof. It had always worked for her before. So why had it not worked this time?

But perhaps the dream had its uses, because she knew one thing at least: something had changed since she had gone to sleep – something important.

Now, Minerva realized resignedly, I may have the chance to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. But I know now that I cannot. Or will not. Even if it costs Potter his life….


End file.
